<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856</id><updated>2011-07-28T14:37:41.368-07:00</updated><category term='dread tears'/><category term='disappointment'/><category term='goals'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='first'/><category term='school'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='new year 2010'/><category term='first blog'/><category term='best friend'/><category term='silent visitors'/><title type='text'>Who.Knew.</title><subtitle type='html'>The innermost confessions of a far-from-perfect girl.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-606712218234969503</id><published>2010-01-26T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T23:11:00.893-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><title type='text'>Reach.for.the.Stars</title><content type='html'>[[&lt;strong&gt;My life goals.&lt;/strong&gt;]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just going to start this list, now. &lt;br /&gt;I will add to it when I think of more things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be able to do a backflip.&lt;br /&gt;Be able to do the splits.&lt;br /&gt;Visit a cave/cavern.&lt;br /&gt;Visit the mountains.&lt;br /&gt;Visit a desert.&lt;br /&gt;Go to visit another country.&lt;br /&gt;Go to all 50 states.&lt;br /&gt;Go to every country.&lt;br /&gt;Visit a swamp.&lt;br /&gt;Swim with dolphins.&lt;br /&gt;Ride on an airplane.&lt;br /&gt;Go on a ride in a hot air balloon.&lt;br /&gt;Ride on a dune buggy.&lt;br /&gt;Go sand surfing.&lt;br /&gt;Go surfing.&lt;br /&gt;Go parasailing.&lt;br /&gt;Get a book (or a few) published.&lt;br /&gt;Possibly bungee jumping? Idk if I'm too scared... haha.&lt;br /&gt;Same with sky diving... I'll give it a maybe.&lt;br /&gt;Scuba diving? Another maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so there are tons more things that I could list, but I'm getting tired.&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-606712218234969503?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/606712218234969503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2010/01/reachforthestars.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/606712218234969503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/606712218234969503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2010/01/reachforthestars.html' title='Reach.for.the.Stars'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-1877412111610730224</id><published>2010-01-11T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T23:11:00.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Sorry.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Not one little bit.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not my fault &amp;&amp;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I act like I do?&lt;br /&gt;Out of fear.&lt;br /&gt;Fear that I'll fail.&lt;br /&gt;Fear that it'll be the end.&lt;br /&gt;Fear that I'll lose it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've worked too hard to just throw it all away&lt;br /&gt;I thought the plan was set to forever,&lt;br /&gt;but I'm not so sure that plan will stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe tomorrow I'll figure out exactly what I want&lt;br /&gt;And, if that's not the case, I will continue to hunt&lt;br /&gt;through my head, my heart, my soul...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love will still exist even if I let go.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- - - - - - -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just give me a chance.&lt;br /&gt;the light of day.&lt;br /&gt;hear me out.&lt;br /&gt;please do it my way,&lt;br /&gt;for once.&lt;br /&gt;this time can be the last&lt;br /&gt;if damage is beyond repair.&lt;br /&gt;did you ever love me?&lt;br /&gt;do you still care?&lt;br /&gt;yes? no?&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't really matter.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have it in me,&lt;br /&gt;to trust what you say.&lt;br /&gt;One way or another,&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna give it to you straight.&lt;br /&gt;Can't handle it?&lt;br /&gt;Then just be on your way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-1877412111610730224?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/1877412111610730224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-not-sorry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/1877412111610730224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/1877412111610730224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-not-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m Not Sorry.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-6809227277263697937</id><published>2010-01-10T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:11:00.928-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Back to School.</title><content type='html'>And, I won't see you at all.&lt;br /&gt;[[Maybe it's for the best?]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, I didn't take the last few months for granted;&lt;br /&gt;I knew at the beginning that it would be an end.&lt;br /&gt;I tried so hard to prepare, but it just wasn't possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll find an awesome person in one of my classes this semester.&lt;br /&gt;[[Then again, maybe not; I mean, I never do.]]&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; someone in my life who will love everything about me - someone who will never be embarrassed by me - and treat me how I deserve to be treated &lt;em&gt;all the time&lt;/em&gt;, not just once in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know right now is hurt, dissappointment, and fear;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to put up with it anymore;&lt;br /&gt;I don't deserve to put up with it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at 11:11 I didn't wish for you like I always do.&lt;br /&gt;Chances do run out, eventually... that time is near.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*Disclaimer*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so tired right now! So, if nothing makes sense and/or nothing flows, I am not to be held accountable. =] haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I am not really a negative Debbie downer on a day-to-day basis. It just so happens that I usually feel the urge to blog more often when I'm in a craptastic mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-6809227277263697937?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/6809227277263697937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2010/01/back-to-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/6809227277263697937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/6809227277263697937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2010/01/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-7503430826925831683</id><published>2010-01-05T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T13:56:20.871-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new year 2010'/><title type='text'>A New Year.</title><content type='html'>&amp;&amp; Old Situations.&lt;br /&gt;(they're getting &lt;em&gt;OLD&lt;/em&gt;!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 2010.&lt;br /&gt;Everything that I though would go away is happening again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resolutions?&lt;br /&gt;Be more like someone else for the sake of actually being the most important for once in my life. Why must I fail so badly at friendships? It's ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so that's not really my resolution, but I wish I didn't have to work so hard for something that should just occur naturally. Why does it take me so much longer that anyone else to establish anything important in life. Then, once I have it, it just gets ripped away. One wrong move, and I feel like I'll lose everything - I'll be put out of the picture forever. I hate this feeling so very much, but I just can't get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have decided that it is not who I am that holds me back, but rather who I think I am not.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who I am: Artistic. Creative. Caring. Genuine...&lt;br /&gt;Who I &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; I am not: Important enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some real resolutions:&lt;br /&gt;•Increase self confidence.&lt;br /&gt;•Exercise regularly.&lt;br /&gt;•Eat healthy (er).&lt;br /&gt;•Stop procrastinating.&lt;br /&gt;•Don't worry; be happy. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Facebook 'About Me' from 2009: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just the skinny girl with the big brown eyes who is easily amused yet hard to please. I laugh at silly movies, &amp;&amp; I'm stubborn as a stone. Yea, I criticize my body, worry all the time, &amp;&amp; wonder if I'm ready to ever grow up. And, sometimes I'm just too "unique" for my own good. But, then again, life's not about fitting in, it's about standing out.&lt;br /&gt;So, don't ever tell me that I have no life, I do - I just find my own ways to have fun.[[ Drinking is just a lame excuse of a hobby - unless we're talking juice pouches.]] I don't need to follow the crowd to be cool; sorry to disappoint you. &lt;br /&gt;I still color in coloring books; I still play on the playground; I still watch cartoons. My true friends accept me for who I am; they are there when no one else cares, and that's all that really matters ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just took it off; time to change things up, and hopefully change my life around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-7503430826925831683?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/7503430826925831683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/7503430826925831683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/7503430826925831683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year.html' title='A New Year.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-4616112627827777770</id><published>2009-12-05T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T23:11:00.250-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dread tears'/><title type='text'>Dreading.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I don't know if I've ever felt so lonely.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I've ever cried for so long.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if this time will be the only, &lt;br /&gt;if I assume that it is I will certainly be wrong.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was the worst I've felt in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;Hopeless. Alone. Insecure. Vulnerable.&lt;br /&gt;Sadness overtook my entire body.&lt;br /&gt;It was numb and out of control.&lt;br /&gt;The tears seemed never ending.&lt;br /&gt;I was trapped by fear.&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts ran wild.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't stop them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is no better.&lt;br /&gt;I sat at home.&lt;br /&gt;I watched tv.&lt;br /&gt;I hung on the computer.&lt;br /&gt;I sulked in negative emotion.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't tell anyone.&lt;br /&gt;This is my secret.&lt;br /&gt;For now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People know why I am dreading the future.&lt;br /&gt;But, I don't think they know how much.&lt;br /&gt;I know I should live in the present.&lt;br /&gt;But, I cannot find the strength to do so.&lt;br /&gt;This thought is eating away at me.&lt;br /&gt;And, it hurts.&lt;br /&gt;So much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want for Christmas is for my wish to come true.&lt;br /&gt;At 11:11 I wish for you. I always do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-4616112627827777770?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/4616112627827777770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/12/dreading.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/4616112627827777770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/4616112627827777770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/12/dreading.html' title='Dreading.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-5462828563280512926</id><published>2009-08-31T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T19:36:51.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Go.</title><content type='html'>Don't leave.&lt;br /&gt;Just stay here.&lt;br /&gt;Please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, this has nothing to do with right now.&lt;br /&gt;It may not happen - that'd make me happy.&lt;br /&gt;But, that's all I wish to say. &lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-5462828563280512926?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/5462828563280512926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/08/dont-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/5462828563280512926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/5462828563280512926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/08/dont-go.html' title='Don&apos;t Go.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-5857778689025254519</id><published>2009-07-21T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T23:11:00.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Secrets.</title><content type='html'>At 11:11 I Wish for You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I always do.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[[Ever noticed that I &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;post blogs at the same exact time? &lt;br /&gt;Well, it's just an illusion; &lt;br /&gt;I alter the post time. =P]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAMN! It's seriously 11:12 right now. &lt;br /&gt;=[ &lt;strong&gt;I missed it!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- - - - - - - - - - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alrighty, let us move on to our topic. Post Secrets.&lt;br /&gt;Ya know, people send in anonymous post cards to this place//company//site//whatever it is and write down their deep dark secrets in creative ways. Yea, that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been reading a lot of them; I find them interesting - yet sometimes sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, this blog of mine is a giant Post Secret in itself. I guess I don't have to send any postcards out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually in a semi-good mood right now. Probably because I get to hang out with one of my best friends tomorrow. Finally. But, I can tell that all the other emotions are just waiting to come back out when the slightest of something upsets me. That is bound to be soon. Just trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I thought it would be fun to watch some Post Secret videos on YouTube and jot down some of the ones that apply to me. Hopefully it doesn't put a damper on my mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"There are two kinds of secrets: those we keep from others, and the ones we hide from ourselves."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;•I make everyone believe that I like to be different, but really I just don't know how to fit in.&lt;br /&gt;•If you wait too long for the perfect moment, the perfect moment will pass you by.&lt;br /&gt;•I wish I could meet the people who send stuff to Post Secret... a lot of them are just like me.&lt;br /&gt;•We all have secrets.&lt;br /&gt;•Your smile is all it takes for me to smile.&lt;br /&gt;•I wish I could just be myself and not care what everyone else thinks.&lt;br /&gt;•I miss my old friends.&lt;br /&gt;•Sometimes we put up walls not to keep people out but to see who cares enough to knock them down.&lt;br /&gt;•I've always wanted to run through a car wash.&lt;br /&gt;•I wish I knew more gay people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting tired. So, that's all for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[[Oh, and how did I know I'd be sad soon! Just for not being included in anything lately. =[ It's possible that I could be, but I highly doubt it... ]]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-5857778689025254519?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/5857778689025254519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/07/post-secrets.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/5857778689025254519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/5857778689025254519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/07/post-secrets.html' title='Post Secrets.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-7822490267354834475</id><published>2009-07-18T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T20:57:57.655-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Past, Present, &amp; Future.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"Remember the past, live in the present, &amp; think to the future." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you could say that quote belongs to me. But, I seem to have trouble balancing out the three parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, at times like this - when I feel neglected, alone, and paranoid - I seem to dwell on the past, mope around in the present, and dread what the future may bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I need to do is listen to Carlos Santana: “Most people are prisoners, thinking only about the future or living in the past. They are not in the present, and the present is where everything begins.” Or, maybe not, because his first sentence describes me quite well; I am often a prisoner of my thoughts, memories, and feelings. And, all I do with my present is regret. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still think back to certain AIM conversations. What if I would have said "No. That doesn't sound dumb at all, because I wish I could hug someone for an hour, too. And, I want it to be you." What if I would have stepped up and branched out? What if I would have stood up for myself more often? What if I were more outspoken? What if I would have left that lunch table, too? ... I could go on forever - ultimitely ending up with: What if I was less like myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I beat myself up time and time again by thinking. And, then I wonder about that whole do-things-actually-happen-for-a-reason thing. Do they? Because, in that case, if things had went differently in the past, would the changes to the future - my present - be for the better? Maybe I'll never know. But, anyhow, is my present actually that great?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it great to be stuck at home while your best friend is constantly on vacation without you?&lt;br /&gt;Is it great that someone who lives literally less than a minute away from me hasn't hung out with me at all?&lt;br /&gt;Is it great to feel like the odd one out in a group that I could never get close to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm missing out on so much. I feel like I'm growing further apart from people. It doesn't even matter whos fault it is, becuase I always find a way to blame it on myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I make everything turn out alright? If I forget the past completley that won't do anything for me - friendships need a history to be strong. But, if I stay fixated on what has already happened I won't be able to move on and make anything better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[[Tell me you're sorry; build up my trust; hold me close to show me that what we have is going to last forever. I need to be reminded; I need to be reassured.]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I fail at keeping up with this blogging thing. =P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-7822490267354834475?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/7822490267354834475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/07/past-present-future.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/7822490267354834475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/7822490267354834475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/07/past-present-future.html' title='Past, Present, &amp; Future.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-6850516883211483442</id><published>2009-03-12T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T23:11:00.738-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disappointment'/><title type='text'>Holding Back Tears.</title><content type='html'>Is break supposed to suck so bad?&lt;br /&gt;Should I want it to be over right now?&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am pretty sure that I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting a few hours from a couple of days aside, I haven't seen anyone, I haven't gone anywhere, and I haven't done anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As time goes on, I wish more and more that high school wasn't over; college is a lonely place, most of the time. I miss my friends - I miss seeing them in the hallway everyday and having classes with them; I miss knowing so many of the people around me. I just want that all back, and maybe to be a year younger (and a grade lower), too; that way I'd be with the people who seem to care about me the most. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For days, I've just felt like crying. That's not how it's supposed to be. I should be out having a good time with my friends. But, no. All I get are those meaningless offers - "we're going to hang out soon"... Yeaaa, soon never seems to come. I always get my hopes up over nothing. Just stop telling me that "we will do something fun soon!" Seriously, I've been let down enough already. Just tell me the truth because I already know what that is: "Sarah, maybe, if I'm not too busy for you and I don't have any better offers, we can do something like once every month?" Okay, so that's a bit of an exaggeration, I know. Still, the point is, I wouldn't get as upset over things that I don't expect to happen in the first place. Now, I just give up hope and trust all together - that is until someone proves to me that I can think otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[[You're a walking contradiction; you give me false hope.]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that I'll be happy again sometime soon, because everything seems to change so quickly - even though 'quickly' can sometimes seem like forever. For instance, people get closer, you get replaced; or people make up, and again, you get replaced. It gets harder and harder every time, especially since no one has really given me a reason to think that I'm an important part in their life - I mean, for all I know, my friends would do just fine if we never spoke again; they have so many other people to turn to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I think about meeting a genuine 'best friend' and leaving people behind - people who made me feel worthless at times. But, I hate myself even more for even thinking such a thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still want to hear that you're sorry; I want you to let me know that I matter; I want to be at the top of the list - the most important 'Sarah' in your life; I want us to be forever; I just want to be together; I want to have fun; I don't want to cry; I'm tired of tears; just stop with the lies; I love you, I love you all but what's going on right now just isn't enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-6850516883211483442?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/6850516883211483442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/03/holding-back-tears.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/6850516883211483442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/6850516883211483442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/03/holding-back-tears.html' title='Holding Back Tears.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-7979741325462291377</id><published>2009-03-11T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T23:11:01.019-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>Alone.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Sad Silence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She hides her thoughts; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;she keeps them in a bottle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She waits for the day &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that she can let them out and SMILE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The truth is, she isn't confident;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;flaws don't equal beauty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But, she stores up all the compliments &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;in hopes that one day &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;she will BELIEVE them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, how she misses you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the way you are when you aren't with them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She hates that she'll never, ever compare; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;she longs to fit in &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;amp;&amp;amp; not STAND OUT. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes she cries; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sometimes she lies, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to save all of her friendships &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that are only getting WORSE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Maybe she's just paranoid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or, maybe it's a CURSE. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;[[and sometimes she wishes that she didn't make lame attempts at any form of writing...]]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yea, so I've just been thinking lately - actually, I am always doing that; and it's always a wide range of jumbled emotions and thoughts. But, now I can't think, so this entry is done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-7979741325462291377?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/7979741325462291377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/03/sad-silence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/7979741325462291377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/7979741325462291377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/03/sad-silence.html' title='Alone.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-4315580995251708880</id><published>2009-01-06T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T23:58:58.623-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='best friend'/><title type='text'>Friends.</title><content type='html'>I hate the fact that people I know might read this. But, it might actually be a good thing if they did, since I tend to not be completely open with everyone. This I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the honest truth is, I don't think I have a &lt;em&gt;best&lt;/em&gt; friend. Ya know, someone I can tell &lt;em&gt;absolutely everything&lt;/em&gt; to. I really don't know if I ever did. Don't get me wrong, there are quite a few people who come close, but close is still too far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, the girl I used to spend essentially all of my time with for years is hardly in my life anymore. That's not what I want. I want her too not be so busy and to not be so consumed by her after school activity. Sidewalks, tracks, and dirt paths at Wildwood park replaced me. It sucks. I'd tell her that I miss her, but that's not the kind of relationship we had; we never really talked about our problems to each other. Or maybe she just never had any? Either way, it was nice just being able to hang out with someone and no drama be included; we had our own disconnected world together - probably because we never hung out with each others' friends. Strange? Possibly. But I loved every minute of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, devoting all of my free time - my summer and my weekends once school started - to one person probably wasn't such a great idea while trying to have other friends, as well. But, I did it anyway and then wondered why the heck I didn't feel as much a part of the group as everyone else was. The thing is, I don't know that I ever wanted to be a part of the group anyway. I never felt like I fit in or had many things in common with the rest of them. That's what pushed me away. Why put in so much effort to fit in when you already have someone who shares so many interest with you? Yea, I suppose that was my reasoning. I don't know if I did the right thing, but the good news is, I met new people - people whom I never want out of my life - and have maintained a stable friendship with most everyone else, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth be told, when I started making new friends, I felt like a total jerk; I didn't want anyone else to get the idea that they weren't good enough. But, that was the problem; I didn't wanna be in a clique. I had to branch out. And I am so glad I did. Most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about getting close to people is the fact that something will get in the way, eventually. The happiness and lack of conflict doesn't last forever. And, at that very time when you make one of the closest friends you have in your life cry becuase you didn't want her to ruin her life, something happens - like when a mirror shatters; you can piece it back together, but there will always be cracks. At this point in time, that's exactly what I think. Many a time I sacrifice my happiness for hers. Maybe because I'm stupid. Or maybe because I don't wanna go through another break in our friendship. Not like that doesn't occur regularly anyway. I mean, I get put on a dang waiting list just to hang out with her nowadays. I've learned the hard way that a boyfriend is more than just a boyfriend, he's a best friend, someone who will steal your importance in mere weeks. And, until I work up the nerve to tell her exactly how lousy I think she is balancing her time between her friends and the 'love of her life', I'd just like to say that I miss how things used to be. Oh, and ask her if she really meant it when she said I could tell her anything and that she'd always be there for me. Cause I certainly had a miserable winter break, and I didn't see much effort on her part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for my part, I need to start putting more effort into all of my friendships. I need to stop thinking that just because someone hasn't called in a long time that they have forgotten about me, or that just because I did something to make someone mad I have to pretend as if I do not exist until they finally decide to talk to me. I can't just wait around and do nothing if I haven't heard from anyone in awhile  I have to develop more initiative; I have to invite people to do things; I have to call people up just to say 'hey'. I have to prove to people that I really do care, because sometimes it probably doesn't show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I have to get past the past and learn that I can trust people. There isn't any reason why someone shouldn't want to be my friend and be able to trust me enough to tell me things about their life. I need to get over every trace of paranoia that something will ruin every relationship I have and just focus on being a friend to everyone who matters to me. Because, without them, I'd be a wreck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-4315580995251708880?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/4315580995251708880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/01/friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/4315580995251708880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/4315580995251708880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2009/01/friends.html' title='Friends.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2811408906957021856.post-2417645573707136086</id><published>2008-12-30T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T21:02:43.224-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='first'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silent visitors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='first blog'/><title type='text'>Lurkers.</title><content type='html'>Maybe this is why I never blog. Ya know, the fact that I can never think of anything worth writing down. Well, that and because I thought "who is actually going to read this" - or any one of my blog-installments-to-be for that matter. But, the second reason gives me no excuse not to start blogging. Why? Because, in all actuality, &lt;em&gt;someone &lt;/em&gt;will end up reading this. And, how do I know? Simple answer: "silent visitors" (hah. I made that up); people who visit personal websites, watch YouTube videos, read fanfics, and click on Myspace profile pages without leaving a message. I myself am guilty of this charge multiple times daily; I'm sure most avid Internet users fit the said category as well. Many a time have I looked at a freshly uploaded photo album on Facebook without leaving one comment and read a new blog on a friend's Myspace page without giving kudos - even though I hate when people do that to me; I enjoy receiving comments! For all you Myspace users, don't you ever wonder who is viewing your profile page so much? And, for all you website owners, don't you ever wonder what all the people who stop by without signing your guestbook think about your site? I have both a Myspace page and own a couple of websites, and my answer is "yes"!&lt;br /&gt;So, lame as it may be, I thought of something to write down. Personally I don't think it's worth it - and am half tempted to just 'X' out of this window without saving and forget I ever tried to blog in the first place - but that's a whole nother story. I guess someone - even if I never know about it - will see that I have broken the ice to my not-being-able-to-blog-phase. To that person - or people - sorry that I wasted your time. xD haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2811408906957021856-2417645573707136086?l=sarahlynntea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/feeds/2417645573707136086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2008/12/lurkers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/2417645573707136086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2811408906957021856/posts/default/2417645573707136086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahlynntea.blogspot.com/2008/12/lurkers.html' title='Lurkers.'/><author><name>Her name is Sarah.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02400752949190967677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
